


Gate 38

by jamesiee



Series: What's with these freaking birds? (12 Days of Christmas) [11]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Airports, Check Please 12 Days of Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Day 11: Christmas Feast, M/M, Winter Storms, alternative universe, delayed flights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:05:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9105961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesiee/pseuds/jamesiee
Summary: “They’re saying it’ll be one of the biggest storms of the year,” she said.“’They’ really suck.” Kent leaned back against the wall, out of the way of the many people running through the airport in hopes that if they hurry their flight might not be cancelled. He didn’t blame them for trying.“I’m sorry hun.”“Don’t let dad eat all the turkey before I get there,” Kent said.“I hope he doesn’t eat all the turkey- I bought a 26-pounder by accident.”Kent gets stuck at the airport on Christmas Eve. He still gets a Christmas feast though.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated holidays! :)  
> I'm following [omgnotanothercpblog's](http://omgnotanothercpblog.tumblr.com/post/153796265936/coming-soon-check-please-12-days-of-christmas) fic/art fest list.  
> This is unbeta'd so any spelling or grammar mistakes are completely my own. My [tumblr](http://chocolatechipcookiesplease.tumblr.com%20).

Day Eleven: Holiday feast 

Kent wasn’t surprised when the lady at the counter told him that his flight had been delayed. Again.

“We’re very sorry for the inconvenience sir,” she said, her eyes weary and her smile tight around the edges. “We’re trying our best to get planes up in the air, but unfortunately the storm doesn’t seem to be letting up.”

“No, I understand,” Kent replied. “Thank you for checking for me again.”

The woman’s smile turned more genuine, though it still looked tired. Kent wondered how many assholes had already yelled at her for something that was way out of her control. Mother Nature did what she wanted, especially around the Holidays.

“Gate 38 will be quiet at this time of night if you want to try to catch some sleep. We’ll announce any changes over the loudspeaker but,” she grimaced. “I don’t see anything changing anytime soon. They called for a White Christmas and unfortunately they delivered.”

Kent laughed politely at her joke and wished her Happy Holidays, shouldering his backpack. He waved as he walked away from the counter, hoping that she’d at least get to go home to her family tonight.

It was the night before Christmas and Kent had stupidly put off travelling to his family in New York until the last possible minute. He had one last work project he wanted to finish before going on holiday so he could enjoy the family time without having to think about work but he’d forgotten to factor in the stupid weather on the East Coast and the fact that his luck was shit. His first flight from Vegas to Boston hadn’t had a problem but sometime during the layover, a storm had hit and most flights were grounded.

Kent pulled his phone out of his pocket, grimaced at the low charge, and called his mother. She’d been bugging him about coming out earlier than Christmas Eve the whole week before as she’d seen the weather reports, but he’d been dumb and hadn’t listened. She picked up on the first ring.

“I’m not going to say ‘I told you so’,” she said.

Kent laughed slightly. “You probably should. Sorry ma.” He felt like he was a teenager again, getting scolded for not doing his homework again.

“Do you have a good book at least?” His mom’s voice softened.

“Yeah,” Kent sighed. He had finished it on the last plane though. Maybe he’d reread it.

“They’re saying it’ll be one of the biggest storms of the year,” she said.  

“’They’ really suck.” Kent leaned back against the wall, out of the way of the many people running through the airport in hopes that if they hurry their flight might not be cancelled. He didn’t blame them for trying.

“I’m sorry hun.”

“Don’t let dad eat all the turkey before I get there,” Kent said.

“I hope he doesn’t eat all the turkey- I bought a 26-pounder by accident.”

Kent laughed out loud and something in his chest loosened a bit. “Holy shit ma. We’ll have leftover my whole break.”

“That’s the plan. Stay safe Kent, okay? Keep me updated.”

“Always. Love you.”

Kent slid the phone back in his pocket, noting that he’d need to find an outlet sooner than he originally thought. He looked around at the crowds. There were more families travelling than he expected, but everyone wore the same sort of resigned expression as they all watched the T.V. screens in hope that the snow would magically go away. He shook his head; watching the reports would do nothing to change them.

Kent’s stomach growled and he looked down at it, surprised. He’d had a light meal on his first flight but that had been… Kent checked his watch, oh. Almost three hours ago now. He started walking through the terminal with a purpose. Every restaurant that he passed was crowded and loud and Kent was not interested in having to fight for space. He ended up grabbing an overpriced cup of grapes, two bruised bananas (cause the apples looked straight up nasty), a couple bags of chips, and a chocolate bar at one of the convenience stores. He considered the line at a smoothie place for so long that he actually ended up in line when people started queuing behind him. While he waited, he kept an eye out for a spot by an outlet, but couldn’t see anything. He’d resigned himself to no music or checking twitter when he remembered that the nice counter lady had said that Gate 38 would be quiet. Hoping that she was right with her insider information, he wound his way through the people, now armed with his snacks and drink.

The crowds thinned out as the gate numbers got up into the 30’s. Kent took that as a good sign. He checked over his shoulder to see if people were following him, not wanting to chance leading anyone to a supposed airport oasis. He made it to Gate 38, a small gate at the furthest end of the terminal, without anyone following him, and was extremely happy to see that it was practically empty save for one guy sleeping in the corner row of chairs; head back again the wall and unfairly long legs sprawling into the aisle, and a kicked over a grey backpack.

Kent set his bag of snacks and backpack down on the first row of seats he got to, balancing his drink carefully beside them. He pulled out his phone charger and went to looking for an outlet without having to lug around either bag. He did a quick scan of the walls, and didn’t immediately see an outlet so Kent did a lap of the gate. Nothing. He swore quietly under his breath and did another lap, slower this time, and stopped in front of the sleeping guy. He was snoring slightly.

Ah, shit.

Well, he found the outlet. Bad news was it just beside the guy’s right ear.

Kent looked up and rubbed his forehead; was charging his phone worth sitting beside the only other person in sight? Was sitting beside someone who was sleeping as creepy as it sounded? Kent was pretty sure it as creepy, if not as creepier than peeing next someone when the whole row of urinals was available. He debated with himself for another minute before ultimately deciding that he wanted the charge badly enough to Edward Cullen next to this guy. Maybe one day he’d be less addicted to technology. He plugged his phone in before going back to grab his shit.

Kent’s only saving grace of the day was that his cord was just long enough that he could keep one seat between him and Sleeping Guy and also scroll through his phone. He piled his stuff on the seat on the other side of him; settling in and getting as comfortable as he could. He hoped Sleeping Guy would let him explain himself if he woke up before Kent’s phone charged. Kent opened a bag of chips and worked on chewing them quieter than he normally would.

He was just finishing his smoothie, slurping the last bit up, when Sleeping Guy’s breathing changed. Kent froze, straw still in his mouth and stared right at Sleeping Guy’s face. Kent had found sitting crossed-legged facing Sleeping Guy while he hunched over his phone the most comfortable position so he’d had a pretty good view. Sleeping Guy had dark hair, slightly curled at the end from length, and messy like someone had run their hands through it a couple times. His nose looked like it’d been broken and reset a couple times and he had a faded scared on a jaw that could cut glass and his eyes were a warm brown and oh fuck. Kent slowly spat out the chewed straw.

Sleeping Guy blinked, his brow furrowed and Kent did the only thing he could think of.

“Uhh... chips?” He offered Sleeping Guy the bag in his left hand.

Sleeping Guy looked at the bag and then at Kent and then at the bag again. He took an offered chip, moving slowly.

“Спасибо,“ he said. He frowned and cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he repeated. He chewed the chip slowly and Kent tried not to move. Maybe if he didn’t say anything else, Sleeping Guy would fall back asleep and Kent could run away before he embarrassed himself anymore.

“You watch me sleep?” Sleeping Guy asked, still frowning. He helped himself to another handful of chips though.

Well. There goes Kent’s plan.

Sleeping Guy’s voice was deep and accented and not at all as freaked out sounding as Kent’s would be if he woke up to a stranger randomly sitting this close to him in an airport.

“Uhh... no,” Kent said. He held up his phone awkwardly, feeling his face heat up when him and Sleeping Guy both saw that the cord was no longer attached. Fuck. “I swear I was just charging my phone.”

Sleeping Guy nodded and sat up straighter, groaning slightly. Kent watched with wide eyes (and did not think about hearing that groan in any other context) as he stretched and twisted one way and the other, cracking his back. “You have more chips?” He asked. Kent held the bag out.

“Ack, no more Doritos. You have other kind?”

Kent gaped like a fish for a beat of very awkward silence.

“I have bar-be-que ruffles,” he finally said, reaching blindly behind to grab the bag. Sleeping Guy made a face.

“No. I’m have craving for sun chips.”

Kent wrinkled his nose. It’d be a cold day in hell before he spent money on stale cheese flavoured wood chips when Doritos were an option. “S-O-L buddy, sorry.”

“Is okay.” Sleeping Guy stood, holy shit he was tall (Kent wanted to climb him like a tree), patting himself down. He seemed to find what he was looking for in his ass pocket. “I go get more. You want?”

Kent shook his head wordlessly.

“Okay. You watch my stuff.”

Without a second glance back, Sleeping Guy walked away, leaving Kent blinking in shock and suddenly responsible for two backpacks. He plugged his phone back into the charger, at least going to be productive with the space if he had to stay there and wait on a stranger. His Christmas Eve had taken a weird turn. At least if his phone was charged he could tweet out an SOS if Sleeping Guy turned out to be the stranger of the two of them.

Luckily, Kent didn’t have to wait long. Within 15 minutes, Sleeping Guy was back at Gate 38, with a plastic grocery bag full of snacks. He made himself comfortable in the same seat, somehow managing to fold his legs under him. He turned so he was facing Kent.

“I’m bring more chips, chocolate, and how you say? Pop? Water too.” Sleeping Guy listed off every item as he unpacked the bag onto the seat between him and Kent. Kent added his snacks to the pile. Sleeping Guy took out his phone and snapped a picture.

“Is good Christmas feast, no?” he asked, when he caught Kent watching him. Kent couldn’t stop the bark of laughter that came out and Sleeping Guy’s grin widened. That set Kent off again and soon they were both laughing loud belly laughs.

“Yeah, better Christmas feast than I thought I’d have tonight,” Kent said when he finally caught his breath. He wiped his eyes of laughter tears, the thought sobering him slightly.

“Storm ruin many holiday plans,” Sleeping Guy agreed, nodding. They sat in silence for a moment, both probably thinking of their families.

“I’m Kent by the way.” Kent stuck out his hand. “Kent Parson.”

Sleeping Guy took Kent’s hands, his own surprisingly soft. “Nice to meet you Kent Parson. My name Alexei but friends call me Tater.”

“Friends?”

Tater rolled his eyes. “You watch me sleep. I think we friends now Kent Parson.” He was still holding Kent’s hand.

“Right. Uh… sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be that creepy.” Kent took his hand back to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck. Tater smiled.

“Is fine. Much worse people to wake up too.”

“Much better ways to wake up too,” Kent said. He coloured when he realized what he said. “Oh my god, that was so bad. Holy shit I’m so sorry.”

He pressed his hands into his face, only looking up when he could no longer feel the heat of his blush and the silence started getting awkward. His stomach flipped pleasantly when he saw that he hadn’t scared off Tater. Tater leaned over the pile of snacks between them. “Maybe one day, I let you show me,” he said, grinning now.

Before he could think too hard about it, Kent closed the gap and pressed his lips to Tater’s, who thankfully returned the kiss with more enthusiasm than one could expect in an airport on Christmas Eve.

Kent moved closer to Tater, squishing a bag of chips in the process. Tater pulled back and looked down.

“What you say we have our Christmas feast now before you break more chips,” he said softly. He laughed at Kent’s pout, pressed a kiss to Kent’s cheek. He dodged Kent’s attempt to make it into anything more and helped himself to one of the bananas and tossed a chocolate bar at Kent, who did _not_ fumble the catch.

They dug through the pile, laughing and trading jabs like they hadn’t just met the hour before. And despite both of their holiday plans getting ruined by some stupid Christmas storm, they had a Christmas feast to remember.


End file.
